"MAYHEM - Bloodrush" (1985) Album Description:
"Bloodrush" is a three-track 12" EP that doesn’t knock. It barges in—wet coat smell, cheap amp heat, that UK mid-80s tension you could taste on a sticky floor. Southport grit aimed through Manchester tape, and the whole thing moves like it’s late for the last bus. No manifesto. No mercy.
Britain, 1985: clenched jaws and loud rooms
Britain in 1985 felt tight in the shoulders. Post-miners’ strike atmosphere, money worries, the kind of background stress that makes crowds impatient and bands play faster. The punk circuit didn’t behave like a “scene,” it behaved like weather—changing nightly, drifting from clubs to back rooms to anywhere a promoter could borrow a PA and pretend it would survive the set.
Records like this didn’t arrive with polite introductions. They arrived like proof. Someone out there was still making noise on purpose.
Where it sits: UK82 roots, metal weight creeping in
Mayhem came out of Southport as a UK82 band , street-punk first—boots on, elbows out—and by the time "Bloodrush" lands in 1985, the music leans heavier without putting on a costume. That’s the trick: the punk posture stays, but the guitar tone starts swinging with more weight. Motörhead is the obvious permission slip here, the one everybody “accidentally” borrowed.
The band’s history is tangled up with the local ecosystem too: members overlapping with Blitzkrieg and The Insane isn’t trivia, it’s geography. Same towns, same practice spaces, same handful of people who actually showed up.
Peers in the air that year (not a family tree, just the vibe)
The record makes more sense when it’s rubbed against the other rough edges floating around 1985. Not “influences,” more like neighboring rooms where the shouting leaks through the walls:
- English Dogs (already dragging punk into heavier mud)
- Broken Bones (hardcore speed, zero softness)
- Discharge (still the blueprint for ugliness with discipline)
- GBH / The Exploited (street-punk hooks, bigger fists)
- Onslaught (British thrash arriving blunt and hungry)
- D.R.I. (showing how fast punk could pivot into metal attack)
Mayhem don’t sound like they’re chasing any of them. "Bloodrush" sounds like a local answer—short, sharp, and stubborn.
The sound: three tracks, no hiding places
Three tracks forces honesty. Weak riffs don’t get rescued by track four. Lazy drumming doesn’t get forgiven because “the album grows on you.” This EP doesn’t grow on you. It grabs you by the collar and checks your pockets for spare change.
"Bloodrush" fires first: clipped phrasing, forward shove, the band daring the tape to keep up. "Addictive Risk" keeps the same nervous pulse but shifts its weight—less straight-line sprint, more skidding corner. "I Defy (Part 1)" is the one that leaves the door open, like the band is halfway through a sentence and refuses to finish it politely.
People who mattered here (because work leaves marks)
Jym Slip gets credited as producer and sound/recording engineer, and that usually translates to one practical thing: somebody made sure the chaos stayed in focus while the clock kept biting. The band also takes a producer credit, which reads like control, pride, and maybe a little paranoia—useful qualities when you’re trying to capture something this tense without smoothing the teeth off it.
Touch Studios in Manchester is where it went down, recorded across 1983 and 1984. That span matters. It suggests a band returning, tightening, trying again—songs living in rehearsal rooms and then getting nailed to tape when the moment finally cooperated.
Misconceptions, because the name causes trouble
No famous scandal hangs off this EP. The main confusion is lazier: people see “Mayhem” and drift toward the Norwegian black metal band out of habit. Wrong country. Wrong era. Wrong set of problems. This is a UK street-punk outfit, and "Bloodrush" is their 1985 12" statement on Vigillante Records, not a corpse-painted mythology exercise.
Another myth is that punk-to-metal crossover had to announce itself with shiny production or technical flexing. Not here. This one wins by being direct and by staying angry without getting theatrical about it.
One quiet personal anchor
Late-night radio, half-dead cassette deck, finger hovering near “record” because the DJ might actually play something risky at this hour. Next day, the same EP sits in the rack like it’s waiting to be picked for a fight.
References
- Vinyl Records Gallery: high resolution cover & label photos + credits
- Punky Gibbon: Mayhem (Southport) lineup + discography notes
- Wikipedia (FR): Mayhem (British group) overview
- Discogs: "Bloodrush" master release overview
- Discogs: 12" (VIG 1 T) release entry
Best part is how little it asks permission. Turn it up, and it still sounds like it wants a hallway—not a pedestal.